


focus

by debilitas



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Light Angst, Love Confessions, bl3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debilitas/pseuds/debilitas
Summary: slight AU where Tannis doesn’t tell Lilith of her status as a siren until the big reveal
Relationships: Lilith & Patricia Tannis, Lilith/Patricia Tannis
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	focus

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for Cat! My first time writing these two, but I’m definitely totally on board for this pairing now. Thank you again for the commission!

Lilith’s eyes are an angry, irritated shade of red. Similar to her hair, in fact, so much so that Tannis thinks she might tell her—

_Focus._

Tannis quickly inhales through her nose. Her lab smells of blood, as it always does, but with a faint hint of something floral. It’s Lilith’s favorite perfume: a small, sapphire bottle ordered from Promethea. She dabs a fingertip’s worth on the base of her throat every morning, and Tannis often wonders who she’s trying to entice. Certainly not her, as she’s never been a fan of roses. 

A former siren and newborn one stare at one another. Tannis expects to be shouted at. Lilith draws another breath, unsteady in a way that’s unusual for her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Oh. She’s not angry. Tannis decides it’d probably be easier if she was.

“It, uh, didn’t come up?”

“‘ _Didn’t come up_ ’?!” Lilith hisses. Alright, she’s a little angry. “Dammit, Tannis, we’re supposed to be on the same side!”

Ah yes, this whole ‘teamwork’ thing. It started with Roland, only intensifying after his death. Lilith closed ranks, gripped her friends tighter— and some still left. Like that rather large fellow, what was his name… 

Either way, teamwork and companionship didn’t come easy to Tannis. She was used to talking too quickly, too elaborately for anyone to ever understand. It often felt like her brain operated at thrice the speed of the world around her, and no one was interested in trying to keep up. 

Lilith tries, though. Sure, she’s guilty of raising a skeptical brow or questioning the moral ‘implications’ — oh, how Tannis despises that word — of her actions. But she listens. No matter how complex, how borderline incoherent Tannis knows she can get, Lilith pays attention when she speaks.

Tannis recalls late, bleary-eyed nights in the abandoned Dahl facility. The coppery taste of blood on her tongue, the screeching of metal against metal, the burn of the countless lacerations on her palms. 

While Tannis makes a point of never paying much attention to, well, anyone — she eventually noticed the way Lilith carried herself. There was an outward confidence in her stride, but her shoulders always hung too low, she’d hunch or hesitate like an immense pressure was balanced atop them. Tannis thought she might be developing some new Pandoran bone disease, until those nights hidden away in an abandoned factory.

She felt the weight of a siren’s wings.

Even now, tattoo-less and outwardly ordinary, Lilith hunches under the unimaginable weight of the galaxy. The savior of Pandora, the protagonist of their increasingly vast story stands across from Tannis, and she is afraid.

Oh, how her fellow humans love to show vulnerability. Tannis still can’t understand how: to be vulnerable was to be in danger, was to face the threat of being hurt. Though she’d rather give a skag a bubble bath — add that to the list of potential torture methods for any political prisoners — than admit it to anyone, she _gets_ Lilith’s fears now. 

To be a siren was a curse. It was a bright red target on the back, a heavy ball and chain on the ankle, a load not meant to be carried alone. Sirens needed a team behind them; a friend. 

Tannis had been too new, too unsure, too dangerous for a friend. So she hid, tucked herself away in one of the darkest holes on Pandora she could find. A place where the only person she could hurt was herself. 

There were plenty of days where she’d keel over, spitting blood and bones aching from their very marrow. Nights where she wanted nothing more than to see Lilith shuffle through the nearest door and say one of her childish quips. Help her to her feet, offer mindless words of encouragement, teach Tannis how to be a good siren. Tannis strives to succeed in everything she does, and can only imagine how much she could learn from greatest siren the galaxy had ever seen.

But she was no better than a rabid dog off its leash; unpredictable, undisciplined. She’d rather die than hurt Lilith.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“We’re friends,” Tannis says, the syllables foreign and awkward in her mouth. 

Lilith blinks. “Yeah, we are. That’s why you should’ve told me.”

“I was trying to protect you. Isn’t that what… friends do?” The words spill, closer to the speed of her rapid fire brain than ever before, stray threads tying together. “Newborn sirens have that nasty habit of maiming loved ones. I’ve discovered that you are quite possibly my only friend, and while endearment alludes me I’d be quite saddened to reduce you to a gory pulp.” 

Tannis processes the confession for a moment, nearly revolted by her own sappiness. She’ll have to dissect at least three things to recover from this display. 

Lilith sighs, posture relaxing into a much less aggressive position. She finally breaks eye contact, scrubbing the back of her neck.

“Well, shit. Guess I understand that. Doesn’t make it right though,” she flashes a wolfish grin. “But you know I can take care of myself. Don’t need to phasewalk to do that.”

“And at the time, I couldn’t do much more than crush an aluminum can. Perhaps I made a m—“ Tannis can’t believe she’s even trying to say the word, tripping over the first letter. “A m— mis—“

“Alright, alright, don’t hurt yourself,” Lilith chuckles, and the tension in the air feels much less thick. “Apology accepted. I think.” 

They watch one another for a beat too long, and Tannis starts to empathize with her test subjects. The inherent awkwardness of being examined, two unyielding eyes searching for some unknown flaw or hidden secret. She knows Lilith is no scientist, yet she probably wouldn’t mind cracking her skull open to find some answers. 

“Are you keeping anything else from me?”

It’s an agonizingly unnecessary question, and Tannis would actually prefer a cranial exam over answering it. They’re both aware of the thing between them, this heated, pulsing, quivering—

_Focus!_

“No,” Tannis answers, voice going up a pitch too high. She’s too much of a terrible liar for someone with so many secrets. Especially in the company of someone who she — oh, how these past few years have changed her — actually likes. She’d even go as far to say she’s quite fond of the other woman, if she was type of soft-hearted, teary-eyed imbecile that used words like _fond._

“What is it?” A look of horror flashes across Lilith’s face. “You didn’t try to dissect one of the crew members, did you?”

“Certainly not!” Tannis splutters. Sure, she has a dozen or so notes in a nearby desk drawer detailing how she’d dismantle a few members — but she hasn’t taken scalpel to skin. The other woman had been trying to get her to pick up the truly inconvenient concept of compromise: no public discussion of dissection, and the cooks won’t spit in her food.

Of course, she can’t just tell Lilith the other secret. Well, she could, but she doesn’t see it resulting in anything pleasant. Tannis knows her style of overbearing advances aren’t typical courtship, and Lilith wouldn’t appreciate any gawking.

Lilith’s always been pretty, but she’s become distractingly so in the past handful of years. Her fiery red hair almost glows in the light, the faintest of frown lines developing between and around golden eyes — crow’s feet, is that what they called them? They don’t remind Tannis of crows or any other insolent avians, rather the time it took for them to develop. A lifetime of brows furrowed in determination, eyes crinkling when she laughed.

Tannis sees all the things Lilith has endured in the lines of her face. So many things that she’s survived— a testament to a siren’s strength of will. Tannis is still waiting for her own strength to manifest, so she, too, can endure. Power through adversity, look danger right in the eye and not tremble with anxiety.

To think that Troy Calypso is out there with pirated powers, leeching from a stolen strength, makes Tannis’ stomach churn with disdain. Lilith didn’t ask for the tattoos, but she earned the right to wear them with pride. Troy did not. Oh, if she could just get her hands around that bony neck of his.

“What is it, Tannis?”

Late nights in the bridge, Lilith watching the bright stars like they held answers. Backs aching from a long day on their feet, hands brushing against one another as they labored over plans. The time Lilith dozed off, head lolling onto Tannis’ shoulder, and while the sensation was unfamiliar, it was not unwelcome.

“I can’t tell you.”

Lilith’s pale cheeks are flushed crimson like they always are when she’s upset, lips pursed into a firm line. She opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something, then snaps it shut. Throwing both hands into the air in defeat, she heads for the door. 

Somehow, Tannis knows if Lilith leaves now, something permanent will wedge between them. A thick wall neither of them are equipped to break through. 

Tannis bounds around her examination table, taking hold of Lilith’s bare forearm just as the door slides open. Golden eyes widen in surprise, and Tannis realizes how hard she’s gripping the skin— the warm, unmistakably human flesh. She relents.

“Don’t leave.” It’s a line straight out of one of those tacky Echonet shows that Tannis _definitely_ doesn’t watch. 

Fine, she’s seen a few episodes, but the TV was already on the channel and sometimes finding the remote is entirely too tedious. 

“Are you going to tell me?” Her voice is stern.

The door out of the lab is still ajar. Lilith could exit at any time, leaving Tannis completely alone. Normally she welcomes solitude, alone time to try to wrangle and arrange her thoughts. Now it makes her chest ache, sick with the weight of too many secrets. 

This whole companionship thing truly is tiring: Tannis never had to mull over her thoughts or deal with anything heartache adjacent when she was alone. Never had to keep secrets, worry about how others perceived her. Though she also never laughed, ate dinner with a friend, too caught up in the fun to remember to look over her shoulder. 

She didn’t need to check, because Lilith had her back. Trust was a foreign sensation, tingly and unfamiliar. If trust had a flavor, it’d certainly be sweet and sour.

“It would appear that I’m quite fond of you.” 

Fond! She actually said it aloud. If she kept heading in this direction, she might even start enjoying the scent of roses.

A smile tugs at the corner of Lilith’s mouth.

“Fond?”

“Yes, yes, fond,” Heat creeps into Tannis’ face from the embarrassment of it all. “You know, what they write songs for simpletons about, or those Echonet films. Bouquets of flowers and clammy hand holding.” 

...No matter how much she enjoys the other woman’s company, Tannis will never be able to comprehend the appeal of clasping palms.

Lilith seems to be lost in thought, perhaps cycling through their interactions with a newfound lens. Then the moment is over and they resume the dreaded eye contact. Gold meets green, and Lilith is closer than she was prior.

Tannis takes an instinctive step forward, closing the gap between them. The door slides shut.

Lilith runs a hand through vibrant hair, Tannis catching another whiff of sweet perfume. It reminds her of a thick, noxious cloud of gas, clogging her lungs while her head is swimming. Perhaps it’s loaded with pheromones, because she finds herself with the impulse to close the distance between their lips. Just a few more inches...

“Well, it’s not the worst th—“

Oh, how _easy_ all those Echonet shows made kissing look. A simple matter of overlapping perfectly moistened lips and gliding them together while the soundtrack reaches a crescendo.

Meanwhile in Tannis’ unbearably real world, her forehead collides with Lilith’s, noses crushing together before their lips. Their mouths are much more chapped than Tannis was led to believe, awkward and out of practice. She hears no fireworks, no crescendo.

And what is she supposed to do with her teeth?

Lilith pulls away after a few seconds of uncomfortable lip-mashing, anchoring both hands on Tannis’ shoulders. Her gaze momentarily flickers to the tattoos, and Tannis starts to feel like she’s done something terribly wrong. There’s an apparent lack of reciprocation here, a sensation very akin to shame creeping up her spine.

What was she thinking? Her and the Firehawk? If she were Lilith, she’d be tossing her out of the cargo bay. Or maybe relocating her bunk to Claptrap’s quarters.

Tannis opens her mouth, not sure of what to say, then snaps it shut when Lilith cups the side of her face. She doesn’t even mind the feel of her clammy palm on her skin, instinctively placing a hand over the other woman’s wrist.

“Hey,” she breathes, and it slows Tannis’ train of thought to a nearly manageable speed. Lilith’s expression is gentle, beautiful. “I like you, too, but that was _such_ a bad kiss.”

Tannis manages to make an indignant noise in her throat before Lilith leans in, locking their lips in an infinitely more comfortable position. Countless hours spent fantasizing about this very   
moment, and Tannis can do nothing but revel in it. She feels the fireworks now, bright and deafening.

It’s warm, a little sweaty, soft, and rose-scented. Tannis’ eyes are shut tight as she opens and closes her palms, overtaken by exhilaration. She’s certain her heart— despite popular belief, she does have one, will continue to beat until it bursts from her chest and takes off down the hall.

Lilith’s hands trail along Tannis’ arms until they reach her back, settling on both sides of her scapula, right where her wings manifest. The siren’s burden doesn’t feel as heavy as it did before.


End file.
